


The Adventures of Ceiling Goalie and the Black Widow

by Velocity_Owl87



Category: Hockey RPF, The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spy, Crossover, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Missions, Rough Sex, Smut, Varlamov is the ceiling spy goalie, winding down after a mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-12
Updated: 2012-05-12
Packaged: 2017-11-05 05:20:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velocity_Owl87/pseuds/Velocity_Owl87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varlamov and Ovechkin are damned good at what they do. Which explains why they got picked to do a mission with the legendary Black Widow and the Winter Soldier.  And why after said mission, Ovie and the Winter Soldier got called into a double shift, leaving Varlamov and Natasha to come down the adrenaline rush in a pretty entertaining way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Adventures of Ceiling Goalie and the Black Widow

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this was basically the product of a pic I saw of the Avalanche as certain Avengers, late night conversations as to who would be the Black Widow and the idea of Varly and Ovie being undercover spies and working alongside the most famous KGB agents-The Winter Soldier and the Black Widow.
> 
> And also just the sheer curiosity of writing out a Black Widow and Varly sex scene, because those two are HOT and together, even more so. Basically, that's all. Just a fun romp through AU spy land.

Despite her having that striking hair and appearance, she managed to not attract attention as she sits at the table, sipping a tall mocacchino as she waited for him. She was reading a book and seemingly engrossed, but he knew better. She was aware of every single person in her vicinity. She wouldn't be Natasha if she wasn't. The program doesn't train sloppy spies. Well, if they do, they don't make it out as far as she has.

He felt a pang of petty annoyance at seeing her there. She still managed to beat him, despite the preparations he made. He didn't like that. Especially not since he's supposed to be the second in line after she and the Winter Soldier left the scene.

He tamped down his irritation and orders a plain black coffee before he took the seat across from her. It's only then that she put the book down, marking her place with a shiny new bookmark and looked at him. Her eyes were cold, blue and calculating as she took in every inch of his tall, gangly frame, still not quite filled out, despite the years of training and hockey.

He wanted to snap at her, but kept his mouth shut. He knew what she was capable of. He saw the footage and read the reports. Instead, he schooled his face and patiently waited for her to speak.

"I usually deal with Ovechkin in these matters." She began, her voice cool and uninflected. Not like his and his partner's. 

"He's been indisposed. So I am the next best option if your agency wants to broker a deal." His voice too, is uninflected, something that would shock the rest of his team-mates and others that keep track of the hockey world. The agency thought that it was better if they sounded like they barely learnt the language properly. It tended to make others underestimate them. 

They were right.

No one expected Ovechkin or Varlamov to be the top spies of the new agency. Ovechkin too loud and brash and him being too young and barely able to make himself understood in his second tongue. They have the perfect covers and get to follow their childhood dreams as well. It is a win-win situation, as far as Varlamov is concerned. 

She smiled at that and leaned forward.

"It doesn't matter. They're willing to give you the work as long as we work together. And by that, I mean all of us."

Varly grimaced at those news. "I thought he was off playing Captain or something like that."

Natasha shook her head. "No more need for that. He's back with us. We need to get to the bottom of all of this. We'll take the stealth part and you take the grunt work. I know that Ovechkin's good at cracking heads and you're even better at getting everyone in your squad out."

Varly inclined his head in acknowledgement. Despite himself, he is flattered by her compliments. It's true that he and Ovechkin are in competition with Natasha and the Winter Soldier, their agencies rivals and partners when it suits them; but it is always something to get their skills acknowledged by the historical lynchpins of the Soviet Espionage world. 

She pursed her lips and Varly wondered for a minute if he had given himself away, but all she did was place a flash drive onto the table between them.

"Everything is in there. Meet us in the Fairfax Building at 7 pm on Tuesday. Bring all the goods."

She gathered up all her things in economical movements and left him there with the flash drive and the feeling that he had just been dismissed.

He shrugged the feeling off, pocketed the flash drive and drank the rest of his coffee. No sense in wasting a Starbucks trip.

~*~*~*~

It felt like the gunfight had been going on for ages. They had luckily managed to get all the of the proofs and backups and unleashed havoc in the systems, but had been caught by a fresh wave that Ovie and Bucky hadn't been able to stop in time. It was either let them in and buy some time for the big surprise, or stop them and waste time. They were nearing uncomfortably close to their window of opportunity to close and they would be damned if they didn't meed their objectives.

"I hope that your partner is good enough to get us out of this!" Natasha growled as she traded shots with the goons that were most certainly NOT supposed to be there. 

"He's rigging it up as we speak. Have some patience!" Varly shot back as he too, got a couple of shots in. He wasn't sure if he did hit something, but when he heard a couple of cut off shouts and bodies falling, he couldn't help but to privately smirk. He had always been a good shot, but he wasn't exactly sure how good he was in regards to blank shots. Now he knew.

Her only reply was to sneer at him and make a couple of more shots, ducking behind the giant oak table the CEO of Fairfax held his meetings around. Varly's mouth quirked up in a smirk when he thought of that. Not after this gunfight would it be used for anything else than kindling and the thought made him feel a petty sense of relief against an asshole that was wilfully shipping melamine-laced milk to Kazakh and and Ukranian orphanages. Not to mention flooding the market with cheap codeine to make krokodil. 

The last was the one that made Varly and Ovie shudder. Even Fedorov had looked a bit green and he had been serving since the Cold War and had seen some fucked up shit and then some. 

No. There was no question that they had to be stopped. Or at least, crippled enough so that the Black Ops of Interpol could take the fuckers out. And judging by the abrupt drop in the volume, that they were well on their way to accomplishing their mission. 

He was just about to tell Natasha to follow him when she grabbed him and pushed him flat on the floor.

It wasn't soon enough.

The fireball blasted uncomfortably close and Varly was sure that he could smell singed hair and ash. He opened his eyes and gaped at the sight of the charred table that was half gone. If it hadn't been such a good quality piece of furniture, he was sure that he and Natasha would have been crispy corpses, which the idiots had intended by throwing that firebomb in there. 

"Amateurs." Natasha sneered once they had stood up and brushed the worst of the debris off. She kicked the empty canister away and Varly saw that it was a shoddy knock off from somewhere in Middle Asia. Effective, if the target didn't know what they were dealing with. 

Sure enough, a fresh group of flunkies came in, but this time, it wasn't decided by gunfire. 

Natasha was surprised when Varly jumped into the fray first, by leaping onto the leader, wrapping his around his waist and snapping his neck with a flurry of economical movements that he had trained in for long hours. 

"Nice." Natasha offered as she too, did her own acrobatic manoeuvres. He had heard about what killer legs she had, but it wasn't until he saw her in action that he could appreciate her graceful movements. She hit a straight run against one of the goons and used the momentum to wrap her legs around his neck and smash him into the ground. 

Varly would have clapped, but he had his own hands full, with his own attackers. He got off the corpse and swept a foot under to get the man off-balance. Once he had done that, he finished it off with a roundhouse and a small knife in the neck. He heard the crack of a neck breaking and figured that Natasha had taken care of another one before he simply tossed a knife in the eye socket of the last one, leaving him twitching amongst the debris. 

Between them, the grunts were done in about five minutes and just in time to get the message from Ovie that the place was rigged and to get their asses out to the hotel.

Once they did a double-check of the area and made sure they had the drives, they left the building as fast as they could and headed to the car that he and Ovie had driven in. 

It wasn't a minute after they had exited that the building blew up.

"I see we didn't make a mistake after all."

Varly only started the car in response and drove away.

~*~*~*~*~

Varly had just come out of the shower in time to hear Natasha curse a blue streak before shutting her phone and tossing it on her bed. She stalked to the window and looked outside, completely ignoring him in favour of staring out at the New York skyline. 

Varly only shrugged to himself and walked over to his side of the room to get dressed. Whatever it was that made her that mad, he doesn't care to be involved in. 

Besides, he was bone tired and he missed the boisterous company of Ovie. Usually, after a job well done, he would be the one to calm Varly's intensity down with either a night out in the town, or simply by wrapping his arms around Varly's body and pulling him to bed, making him come over and over again until they were simply exhausted and too fucked out to do anything except lie in bed and watch old films until they had processed the job well enough to go back to their espionage-free, hockey lives. 

But this time, Ovie's not around and when he picks up his phone, he can see why Natasha was pissed off. 

"Pulling a double. Stay with the Widow. We'll return in two days."

Varly swore quietly and sank down on his bed. Already, he could feel the thrum of unreleased adrenaline and it makes him want to peel his skin off. It's awkward and uncomfortable how antsy it's making him feel and he can't very well jump back in the shower to take care of it all. 

He wondered if he had anything in the kit to get him to come down, but dismissed the idea as quickly as it arrived. Nothing good comes from going down that road and he was sure that Ovie would also kill him. Vodka's fine. Anything harder is not.

He sighed and wondered if he could get some vodka delivered and if Natasha would mind. 

He glanced at her ramrod straight back and he decided to take the chance. Surely she would understand the need to come down after such excitement. She had been in the game for years. If anything, she could give him pointers on how to do it without becoming an addict.

He would have asked her if she wanted to join him at the bar downstairs, but one look at her stiff back made him change his mind. Quietly, he pulled out a set of expensive, but nondescript set of clothes and was about to get dressed when Natasha turned around and looked him over with a speculative eye.

She moved like a cat, her blue eyes fixed on his face as she shortened the distance between them and was now standing in front of him. Varly was frozen in place, unable to do anything else but look at this living legend, who was looking at him as if she was trying to read all of him in one long look.

"You're a bit young, but you're built enough like a man to do." 

Varly only had time to blink at that statement before he found himself being flipped and pinned under Natasha, who was sitting on his groin looking down at him with a self-satisfied smile on her face. It was then that he became aware of how thin her tank top was and how clearly he could see her nipples through the black fabric. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly silenced by the press of her mouth against his. She didn't waste time tasting him, asking for permission by licking his lips. No. She just dove right in and sucked his tongue, tasting him and the toothpaste he had used earlier that night. She didn't seem to mind, since her hands were roving down his naked body, caressing and mapping the plane of every muscle she came across.

When her fingers finally reached the jut of his hip and the curl of his hair, he had to contain a groan. Her fingertips were light and clever and he was already hard and ready for her with just the ferocity of her kisses and the clever tweaks of her fingers on his body.

"Ah." She breathed out as she pulled away from him and shifted her hips to get her small shorts off. She grabbed his cock and Varly made a noise that later on would embarrass him, but at that moment, he was too shocked to care. Natasha had sunk onto his shaft with very little resistance and had left him struggling to contain the moans and groans that war building up in his throat at the feel of her walls surrounding him.

She was wetter than he had guessed and he had to wonder if she had planned this when he was in the shower, the message from Ovie and Bucky spurring her to action.

He would have asked her, but when she started to move, first in sharp, fast jerks as she fought to find her rhythm and then in long, hard thrusts, he was done. 

Especially when she curled her hands around his shoulders, her fingers digging into the skin as she anchored herself in order to keep up the hard, angry and fast rhythm that was making Varly gasp out and babble in unintelligible Russian. Natasha's breasts were bouncing around and he just had to grab them and squeeze the nipples, making her cry out hoarsely as he played with the buds, his callused fingers eliciting more responses than if he was sucking or pinching them. 

It wasn't pretty and it wasn't tender. It was rushed and Varly knew that both of them would have bruises and marks when it would be done. But the sex, oh God! The feeling of her roughly riding him to a rushed and furious completion gets him off more than anything has before. Her nails dig into his shoulders as she sped up, her breasts jiggling and bouncing in his hands as she neared her completion. 

He couldn't form words or thoughts. Not even when he could feel the blood trickling down his shoulders. His orgasm was ready to uncoil in his abdomen, ready to be unleashed. She stopped, once, twice and it him out of nowhere, the moment he felt the gush of her fluids over his lap and her moan of relief. It is the deep and throaty sound of it that jerked the orgasm out of him and made him spill deep into her, his mouth open in a silent moan and his head falling back as his body finally found release.

She collapsed over him and lay on top of him, her breath coming in ragged pants as they both fought through the adrenaline crash that was coming over them all too quickly.

"Don't fall asleep, yet."

She whispered into his ear as she got off of him and limped into the bathroom. 

"Uh." Was all he could say as he got his limbs co-ordinated enough to stand up and shuffle over to the bed, the towel snatched up as an after though to clean himself off.

He was about to fall into it when Natasha opened the bathroom door and jerked her head in the direction of the running water.

"Ready for round two?"

End.


End file.
